The lights flicker above you, humming faintly like a lullaby gone wrong. You’re not sure when it started this strange descent into velvet-shadowed madness but now you’re here, pressed against the cold steel wall of a room that smells faintly of gunpowder and something sweeter… roses, maybe. Or blood.

You feel it before you see him the electric crackle in the air, the sudden drop in temperature, like the moment before lightning strikes.

Then, his face emerges from the shadows.

That grin. Crooked, eternal. Etched into his skin like a cruel signature from some devilish god. And those eyes… oh, those terrible, brilliant eyes. Wide and unblinking, lit with something between genius and lunacy. He’s staring right at you no, through you and yet, it feels like you’re the only thing he sees.

“Y’know,” he says with a voice like silk snagged on a knife, “I’ve tried to stop thinking about you.”

You swallow hard, feeling your heart pounding in your chest and your face flushing.

His grin widens, impossibly. “Tried blowing up a whole building once, just to drown out the noise. Didn’t work. Still heard your laugh in the rubble. Or was it mine?” He steps closer, the click of his shoes echoing off the concrete, rhythmically, like a metronome counting down your sanity.

You don’t move letting him come closer into your space.

“I see you even when I close my eyes,” he whispers, face inches from yours now. “You haunt me, darling. Like a ghost I want to chase.”

He tilts his head, studying you like a masterpiece he might ruin just for fun. His gloved fingers reach up, gently brushing your cheek. Too gentle for someone like him. It’s terrifying.

“You make me feel, and I hate that.” His voice cracks with something unspoken. “But oh, sweetheart, I love it, too. I love you. Isn’t that just… tragic?”

Your breath catches as his fingers curl under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his fully.

“I’d burn Gotham for you,” he murmurs. “Wouldn’t even think twice. Because love, real love it’s chaos. And no one understands chaos like I do.”

He kisses your forehead, slow and reverent, like you’re something holy.

You couldn’t help but lean into the touch of his lips on your forehead.